


you're the only one I never looked for

by gutsandglitter



Category: Holby City
Genre: Baby Boom AU, F/F, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutsandglitter/pseuds/gutsandglitter
Summary: Trying to cope with her newfound guardianhood, Serena decides to take baby Ellie to live in the country for a few months. While she's there she catches the eye of the town doctor, who is as beautiful as she is infuriating.Loosely based on the movie "Baby Boom" with Diane Keaton.





	1. Inheritance

Serena was, of course, sad to hear of her cousin Andrew’s passing.

He had been younger than her by several years, and he had been recently married if she remembered correctly. Although maybe it wasn’t that recently, she wasn’t very good at keeping track of those sorts of things. She knew she’d met the bride, Mary, once at a family Christmas party, though she couldn’t recall anything about her besides the fact she was American. They’d moved to New York (or was it New Jersey?) at some point for her job. Mary had apparently been killed in the accident alongside Andrew, which was all the more tragic.

But the news of their deaths had come to her concurrent with the news that they had left Serena something in their will, and she would be lying if she said that wasn’t an exciting prospect. The lawyer had been calling from New York and the connection had been shoddy, so she had no idea what to expect when she got to the airport. Some money, perhaps? Or maybe some property, a summer home in Florida?

As she walked to the arrivals gate at Heathrow, she tried to manage her expectations. She was technically the only family Andrew had, but surely Mary had someone who could inherit the bulk of their estate. He’d probably left Serena their grandfather’s military medals, or some sort of heirloom humidor. Nothing to get too excited about.

She’d made excellent time in getting to the airport; she reached Terminal E just as the 12:50 flight from New York was letting out. She waited by the baggage claim until she spied a woman in a smart charcoal pantsuit with her hair tied back in a severe ponytail. Aside from the baby on her hip and the diaper bag in her hand, she looked like every high-powered New York attorney Serena had ever seen on tv.

She gave a tentative wave. “Miss Larkin?” she called.

The woman glanced over and looked visibly relieved. “Doctor Campbell?” she asked as she approached.

“Serena, please.”

Miss Larkin furrowed her brow. “You are a doctor though, right?”

Serena nodded.

“Thank God,” the other woman said, thrusting the baby into her arms. “She’s been running a fever, maybe you can take a look at her.”

Shocked, Serena held the baby at arms’ length. “I’m a vascular surgeon, not a paediatrician.” She’d done a stint in paediatrics back in medical school, but she’d never had much interest in the field. And even if she had, she certainly wasn’t about to do an examination of a stranger’s baby in the middle of the airport.

Miss Larkin sighed. “That’s a shame. But she seems to be doing well on the Motrin, I just gave her another dose about an hour ago. The rest of it is in here,” she said, holding out the diaper bag.

Serena looked from the baby, which she was still holding like a ticking bomb, back to the lawyer with the diaper bag. She’d never been to a formal property disbursement before, but she had the distinct feeling that this was not how they were supposed to go.

“I’m sorry, Miss Larkin,” she said, in a voice as polite as she could muster, “I’m afraid don’t have time for this, I’ve a shift at the hospital to get back to. Could you just give me whatever it is Andrew left me so I can be on my way?”

Miss Larkin knit her eyebrows together. “I uh, I already have?”

“What?”

“I told you on the phone, he left you Ellie.”

Serena blinked. “What’s an Ellie?”

Looking more than a little alarmed, Miss Larkin nodded to the baby. “That’s an Ellie. Or Elinor, whichever you prefer.”

Serena’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re-you’re joking, right? Surely you’re joking.” 

This had to be a prank, one of those practical joke shows. Fletch must have signed her up for it. She glanced around, looking for the cameras and smarmy host. They’d all have a good laugh, then she could go back to the hospital and murder Fletch.

“I don’t joke,” Miss Larkin said primly, holding out the diaper bag once more. “Could you please take this? I have some paperwork I need you to sign, and my flight back leaves in less than an hour.”

Serena blinked several times as her ears began to ring. This couldn’t be real. Real life didn’t happen like this. “I can’t…I don’t want a baby.”

“And I’m pretty sure Andrew and Mary didn’t want to die, but here we are.”

The other denizens of Terminal E were beginning to stare, and had Serena been more conscious of her surroundings she wouldn’t have blamed them. It was an odd, incongruous tableau – Serena frozen and holding the baby like she was afraid of being bitten and Miss Larkin holding out the diaper bag with an insistent scowl – both women clearly locked in some sort of surreal standoff.

Serena looked at the baby, who seemed relatively unfazed by her precarious position. Her cheeks were flushed bright red with fever, and her light blue eyes were slightly glassy. A few wisps of downy blond hair peeked out from under her navy wool cap, giving her an almost elfin look. As Serena examined her, Ellie gave a broad, gummy smile. A small rivulet of drool ran down her chin and onto the collar of her coat.

Serena looked from Ellie, to Miss Larkin, then back to Ellie.

“But I don’t want a baby,” she repeated.

Ellie grinned again, kicking her legs and letting out a happy squeal.

*****

The sabbatical had been Henrik’s idea.

“Just until you get your bearings. I can only imagine how difficult this sudden foray into motherhood must be for you,” he had said.

“Guardianhood,” Serena had snapped back.

 

The temporary move had been Raf’s idea.

“Raising kids in the city is hard,” he’d said. “And if you’re not going to be working, why not get away for a while? Go to the country, get some fresh air.”

The new anaesthetist, Alex, had piped up then. “I’ve actually got a er, friend, who’s renting a place out in Holby Village,” she’d said, leaning against the counter. “Cute place, and I’m sure she could give you a good deal. Want me to give you her number?”

Serena had opened her mouth to make a snarky remark, but Raf had cleared his throat. 

She closed her mouth, feeling the muscles of her jaw tense and twitch. “Okay,” she mumbled. “I suppose it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Alex beamed.

*****

Two weeks later, Serena was driving through the narrow streets of Holby Village, her small car loaded down with baby things (some had been hastily-purchased from M&S , some were hand-me-downs from the Fletchlings).

And she was completely lost.

After twenty minutes of wrestling with the map on her phone, which didn’t seem to even register the existence of the village, she gave up and pulled into a parking space in front of the grocer’s. She settled Ellie on her hip (she was still unable to pick the girl up without feeling like she was about about to drop her, but she had found that a hip-hold was the least terrifying for the both of them) and approached the shop. 

The grocer’s was small but well-stocked, packed tight with overflowing shelves of dry goods and toiletries. Serena felt a tad claustrophobic as she walked through the door, though that was quickly forgotten when she stubbed her toe on a poorly-placed crate of parsnips.She swore loudly, then glanced at Ellie. 

“Sorry.”

Ellie, unfazed by her guardian’s profanity, reached up and tugged on Serena’s earring.

“Can I help you?” a voice called.

An elderly woman was standing behind the front counter, wearing a namebadge that said “Myrtle” and a skeptical look just short of a glare. An even more elderly tortoiseshell cat sat on the counter beside her, wearing the exact same expression. Its mottled tail flicked upwards, forming a near-perfect question mark before falling and curling back around its paws.

“Ah, hello,” Serena said, shifting Ellie higher on her hip. “I’m afraid I’m lost, could you tell me how to get to Catchfly Cottage?”

Myrtle’s eyebrows knit together. “Why would you want to go there?”

Serena hesitated. “I er, I suppose I’m going to be living there.”

Myrtle smirked and tilted her chin up. “Oi, Bernie! Your new tenant is here.”

There was a scuffling sound from behind one of the rows of shelves. “Hang on,” a muffled voice called back.

Myrtle, whom Serena was beginning to dislike very much, gave Serena the once-over as she reached out to stroke the skeptical cat. The cat did not take its eyes off Serena, but did tilt its chin slightly in order to give Myrtle better access to its chest.

Serena had always prided herself on her ability to fit in and make friends everywhere she went, so the feeling of abject alienation she felt under Myrtle’s scrutiny was an unfamiliar one. She had known better than to pack her best silk blouses and heels (save for the red Louboutins she couldn’t bear to be parted from) but she was rapidly coming to the realization that it was more than her wardrobe that would make her stand out here. 

There was a bit more shuffling behind the shelving, and her new landlord stepped into view.

Serena wasn’t sure what she had been expecting when she had spoken to “Bernie Wolfe” on the phone, but it certainly wasn’t a tall, striking woman with sharp cheekbones and a mass of blond curls tied back in a halfhearted ponytail. The woman was wearing an oversized green canvas jacket with a checkered flannel shirt collar peeking over the top, and a pair of steel-toed men’s work boots. She was also carrying a very large sack of chicken feed over one shoulder, indicating that her seemingly willowy body was much stronger than it looked. 

“Serena Campbell?” the woman asked.

Serena nodded uneasily. “Ms. Wolfe?”

“Call me Bernie.” She wiped her free hand on her jeans before holding it out to Serena.

Serena shook it, noting how surprisingly soft it was, in seeming direct defiance of her rough exterior. Their hands stayed clasped about two seconds longer than necessary, and Serena tried not to read too much into that.

“And er, this is Ellie,” Serena said after a pause, nodding her head towards the baby on her hip.

“Nice to meet you, Ellie,” Bernie said gently, readjusting the sack on her shoulder. She looked back up at Serena. “I take it you’re lost?”

“Ah, yes,” Serena said. “My phone can’t find the address on the map.”

Bernie smirked. “Yeah, I wouldn’t expect it would. Should’ve gone with a proper map, the paper kind. Would’ve gotten you there easy enough.”

Serena stood up a little straighter, disliking the tone of the other woman’s voice. “Yes, well, you could have mentioned that on the phone. Now if you could please give me directions, I can be on my way.” 

Bernie looked Serena up and down, much as the woman behind the counter had. It was an innocent glance, and Serena knew it was just because she was so out of place, but she grew uncomfortably warm beneath the other woman’s gaze all the same. She cleared her throat, and Bernie’s eyes snapped back to her face.

She shifted the sack on her shoulder. “I was actually headed in that direction, you could follow me if you liked.”

“I’d prefer directions,” Serena replied cooly.

Bernie cocked an eyebrow. “Not sure I could give them, most of the roads out that way don’t have signs. It’s no trouble, really.”

Was this some sort of show of small town hospitality? Judging by the way Bernie and Myrtle looked at each other, it seemed like it could just as easily be some sort of hazing ritual for newcomers. But Serena was tired of driving, and Ellie was past-due for a nap, so it didn’t seem like she had any choice.

“Okay,” she sighed.

 

Bernie drove an ancient pickup truck caked with mud, which seemed appropriate based on what Serena had seen of her. She also drove maddeningly slow, making Serena want to bang her head against the steering wheel. 

They drove through the town and into the hills, where the paved road gave way to dry compacted dirt. Serena’s little car was ill-equipped to deal with this sort of terrain, and she could feel it groan with every bump and rocky patch. In the rearview mirror she could see Ellie in her carseat, head bobbing like a dashboard ornament. She made a few squeaking noises that indicated a tantrum was imminent.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Serena cooed, both to Ellie and to the car. She was going to have to try to lease something with four-wheel drive if they were going to be staying here, though she would draw the line at any sort of truck.

Bernie soon turned onto what seemed to be a driveway; it was still unpaved but there was a mailbox next to it, which seemed like an indicator of domesticity. They drove up another hill, until the drive flattened out and ended in a wide clearing shaded by a ring of ash trees. Bernie parked in front of the house and Serena pulled alongside her, killing the engine and staring up at Catchfly Cottage.

It was smaller than the photos Bernie had sent made it seem, but to Serena’s relief it looked remarkably well-kept. The brick exterior had recently been power-washed, and the shingles on the roof looked new. A trellis of thick climbing roses framed the doorway, and as Serena stepped out of her car she could smell their sweet perfume, even from several meters away. It looked like something out of a fairytale. 

Bernie sidled up alongside her. “So er, this is it. Not much, but you know.”

“It’s perfect,” Serena murmured.

“Yeah?” Bernie asked, almost sheepishly. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “It’s been a pet project of mine for a while. It’ll be nice to have someone actually living in it again.”

Serena hummed. “Yes, at least for a little while. I’m only planning on spending six months here, maybe a year. Just enough time for Ellie and I to get our bearings.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that. You never know, could find something here you like.”

She gave a wry smile and looked up at Serena through her fringe. She had an unmistakable twinkle in her eye, and Serena felt a flush begin to creep up her neck. She’d known Bernie all of twenty minutes, but the other woman was already acting like they knew each other. Her flirting was shameless and impertinent, but Serena couldn’t help being little turned on by it.

She cleared her throat and looked away. “I almost forgot, I have the first month’s rent check.” She pulled her pocketbook from the car and began digging through it in search of the slip.

Bernie scratched the back of her neck. “Ah, don’t worry about it, I’ll go ahead and wave the first month for you. Consider it a welcome gift.”

Serena looked up and frowned. “That’s very kind of you, but not necessary.” 

“Really, I mean it.” Bernie shrugged. “Alex vouched for you, said you’d take care of the place. Like I said, it’ll just be nice to have someone living in it again.”

Serena felt a flare of anger rise up in her chest. What exactly had Alex told Bernie about her? “I’m not a charity case.”

Bernie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say you were, I just thought-”

“You just thought what, I’m a single woman raising a baby, so I must be down on my luck?”

Bernie held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Look, Serena, I didn’t mean it like that. Though I can imagine being a single mother must be hard.”

“I'm not a mother.”

Bernie blinked twice. She opened and closed her mouth, then made a vague, confused gesture towards Ellie, who had made the wise decision to fall asleep in her car seat.

“I'm her guardian,” Serena growled. “She's my dead cousin’s daughter.”

She knew her anger was unwarranted, but she couldn’t help it. This woman had gotten under her skin in record time, and that paired with all the frustration that had come from the past few weeks created a seething resentment deep inside her core. 

Bernie’s face fell. “Christ, I'm so sorry. I...God, I can't even imagine.”

“No, I’m fairly certain you can’t. Now, if you would please take the check.” 

She shoved the slip in question towards Bernie, who took it and slipped it into her jacket pocket. Serena would have expected her to be angry or hurt after this outburst, but if anything the other woman looked bemused. A small smirk played at the corners of her lips, and Serena could feel her blood pressure rising at the sight of it.

Bernie gestured back to her truck with her thumb. “”I should probably get going, let you two get settled in.”

“Yes, I think you should,” Serena agreed.

Bernie ducked her head to hide her growing smile as she made her way back to the truck. Once inside, she rolled down the window. 

“Give me a ring if you need anything,” she called. “Or drop by the clinic anytime.”

Serena watched as she drove away, feeling her anger begin to ebb. She wasn’t sure what “the clinic” was; perhaps some whimsically-named little watering hole where the locals gathered to make fun of the out-of-towners. Regardless, she was certainly not going to be seeking help from Bernie Wolfe any time soon. 

With that thought in mind, she went about extracting Ellie from her carseat and carrying her across the threshold of their new (temporary) home.


	2. Breakdown

Taking care of a baby is hard. 

Serena had known this, of course. Most of her friends had children, and they could scarcely hold a single conversation without bringing up the woes of parenthood. Having a tiny person dependent upon you for their survival was obviously a difficult task.

But if she were really and truly honest with herself, she had always thought women were exaggerating some when talking about how hard parenting was. Oh, you didn't sleep, you were covered in bodily fluids, and no matter what you did the person in your care just wouldn't stop screaming? Serena was a vascular surgeon, that sounded like her average Tuesday. After the initial shock of Ellie’s arrival had worn off, Serena had bought some formula, watched a YouTube video on how to properly change a nappy, and figured that was all there was to it. 

How wrong she had been. 

For starters, Mary had still been breastfeeding Ellie at the time of her death. When Serena had first handed Ellie a bottle of formula, she had dropped it and begun pawing at Serena’s blouse. Serena had picked the bottle up and tried to stick the nipple in her mouth, and Ellie had started to cry. After a bit more wrestling Serena had given in and tried some dry cereal, which Ellie had eaten, grabbing each piece with her tiny fingers and shoving them in her mouth. She had even offered Serena a few pieces, which Serena had thought to be very polite. But as that first day had worn on Serena had grown increasingly agitated. The internet said that a nine month old should still be drinking between 24-36 ounces of milk a day, and Ellie hadn’t had any. 

In her despair Serena had called Fletch, who asked if she had heated the bottle up. 

“Why would I do that?” she had asked, perplexed. “I mean, it’s room temperature-ish.”

“You said she had been breastfeeding up until her mother’s death?”

“Yes?”

“And how warm do you think breast milk is, considering it’s made and stored in the human body?”

As a doctor, Serena was somewhat embarrassed she hadn’t come to that conclusion on her own. After heating the formula to exactly 37 degrees (according to her meat thermometer), she had tried again. Ellie gave a bit of a fuss beforeacquiescing, giving Serena the infant equivalent of a side-eye over the top of the bottle as she nursed.

Then there was the separation anxiety, which the internet also said was common in babies her age. Ellie became attached to Serena in record time, and couldn’t stand being out of her sight. The crib proved to be a useless investment; Ellie would only sleep (and more importantly, let Serena sleep) if she was in Serena’s bed with her. She wouldn’t even let Serena go long enough to use the loo; Serena ended up having to take her along, using the bathtub as a makeshift playpen.

Somehow, Serena had thought that the move to the country would make things easier. Catchfly Cottage was a single story, so no having to worry about falls down the stairs. And the countryside was quiet, all birdsong and wind in the trees, so there were no sirens or car alarms to frighten Ellie or wake her from her naps. It was supposed to be an improvement.

But no, Ellie seemed to be completely unaffected by the change of scenery. She was still the same tiny, red-faced tyrant she had been back in the city.

Eight days after the move, Serena found herself at the end of her rope.

“Let’s take a drive, shall we? I’m sure you’re just feeling cooped up,” she said, buckling a crying Ellie into her carseat and trying to ignore the blatant desperation in her own voice. She hadn’t brushed her hair that morning, hadn't even thought of bothering with makeup. The fact she had gotten to shower at all was a bloody miracle in and of itself.

If only my F1s could see me now, she thought. I’d never be able to strike fear into their hearts ever again.

The drive into town was quiet, and Serena nearly wept with joy when she found a radio station playing soft classical music. Ellie dozed in the backseat, clutching a lilac stuffed rabbit to her chest. (A gift from the Fletchlings, Serena had taken to calling him Harvey.) As they turned onto the main road, Serena felt calm, calmer than she had since that fateful day at the airport. Surely things could only get better from here on out.

She pulled into the now-familiar grocer’s and placed Ellie in her pushchair, securing Harvey in beside her. She steeled herself, then pushed Ellie through the front doors.

This time she was able to avoid the crate of parsnips, which appeared to still be in the same place as last time. Myrtle was still standing sentry beside the cash register, as was the cat. Myrtle might have even been wearing the same faded floral blouse as last time.

Does time pass around here? Serena wondered as she gave a cheerful wave.

Myrtle inclined her head in what might have almost passed for a friendly nod. Serena took this as a victory, and set off through the shelves. 

She found herself surprised by the wide selection available in the small shop, considering how far out of the way it must have been for suppliers. She was able to find her favorite brand of coffee, as well as her favorite cereal and crisps. The baby food section was well-stocked too, which was a much-needed boon.

She scanned the different jars and packets, searching for Ellie’s favorites.

“You like pears, don’t you?” she asked, taking a jar off the shelf and examining the label. 

Ellie blew a raspberry, which seemed like a noncommittal response. 

“You seemed to the one time we tried them,” Serena continued, reading the list of ingredients. “Now the question is, do you want just pears or do you want pears with apples?”

“If I had a pound for every time I’ve had to ask myself that same question, I’d be a rich woman,” a voice said, startling Serena and almost causing her to drop the jar.

She looked up and saw Bernie Wolfe leaning against the shelf with a shopping basket in her hands.

“Could you wear louder shoes please?” Serena snapped, placing the jar in her own basket. Feeling self-conscious, she ran a hand through her hair and kicked herself for leaving the house in such an unkempt state. 

Bernie, on the other hand, looked maddeningly attractive. Her hair was down, curling softly around her ears and hanging low over her eyes. She was wearing another checkered flannel, although this time it was paired with skinny jeans and a pair of smart black leather boots, a far-cry from her farmer’s getup in their first meeting. 

Bernie smirked. “Sorry about that, I just had to find out what the result of the pears debate was.”

Serena rolled her eyes. “Riveting, I know.”

“Right up there with chicken-versus-egg, I think,” Bernie teased.

“Mm yes, we should see if Richard Dawkins wants to weigh in on it.”

Bernie grinned. “So how are you two settling in?”

Serena paused, unsure of how to answer. _It’s been the most hellish week of my life, save only for the two weeks that preceded it, thanks for asking? I can’t go twelve hours without crying, I’m exhausted to the point where it’s probably illegal for me to be driving, and I don’t remember the last time I washed these trousers?_

“The house is lovely,” she said, because that was the only thing she could say that was both positive and true at the moment.

“Brilliant,” Bernie said. “Hot water heater giving you any trouble?”

Serena shook her head. “No, not that I’ve noticed.”

“Good, glad to hear it.” Bernie moved her basket from one hand to the other. “I should go, I told my receptionist I’d bring her back lunch.”

“Right, we should be heading out too,” Serena lied.

They headed up to the cash register, where Myrtle was still stroking the cat. Serena glanced over the magazines while Bernie placed her items on the counter (two pre-packaged salads, a packet of crisps, and a sleeve of Hobnobs) and pulled out her wallet.

Myrtle rang up the items without taking her eyes off of Serena.

“You’re going to be staying then?” she asked.

Serena started. “Er, what?”

“Staying here. Holby Village.”

“Oh, just for a short while.” Serena fluffed the hair at the nape of her neck. “I’m on sabbatical for six months or so.”

Myrtle furrowed her brow. “Sabbatical?”

“Yes, I’m a vascular surgeon at Holby City.”

Myrtle hummed. “A doctor, eh?” She looked over at Bernie. 

Bernie cleared her throat and shook her head. 

Myrtle glanced between the two of them before fixing Bernie with a cryptic smile. “Ah. Have a good day then, Bernie,” she said with a wink. 

Bernie made a face at her, then turned back to Serena. “It was good seeing you,” she said, giving a smile to Serena and a small wave to Ellie before turning and striding out the door. 

Serena was baffled. What had just happened? Was it just a trick of the light, or had Bernie been blushing? And why did she feel like she was the butt of some secret, unspoken farmer joke?

She continued to wonder about this as she left the store, packing up the car and getting back onto the main road. It was a bright spring day and there were still a few hours before Ellie had to go down for her nap, so Serena decided to drive out to the small park she had seen when they first arrived in town.

The park was centered around a large plastic playstructure, a technicolor monstrosity outfitted with a pair of slides, a row of climbing bars, a tower that was probably supposed to look like part of a castle, and a set of swings. It was mostly empty, save for a few toddlers and their minders.

She set Ellie down in one of the baby swing seats and gave her a push. Ellie let out a happy squeal, kicking her legs out and waving poor Harvey around by his ears. Serena couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Despite the hell she had put Serena through over the course of the past month, she still was a darling girl. She reached out and stroked the baby’s downy blond hair, running her index finger around the shell of her tiny ear before pushing the swing out again.

After a few minutes, one of the young mothers ambled towards them with a newborn strapped to her chest and a toddler in tow. She plonked the toddler down in the swing next to Ellie’s.

“She’s precious,” the woman remarked, nodding at Ellie. “How old is she?”

“Nine months,” Serena replied. “Er wait, ten months now actually. How about yours?”

The woman pointed to the infant on her chest. “He’s three and a half weeks, his brother here is twenty-four months.”

Serena had never understood the parental fascination with months. Why couldn’t she just say two years? 

“What’s her name?” the young woman asked. 

“Ellie,” Serena said, smiling fondly. 

“That’s pretty.” The woman bent slightly so that she was at Ellie’s eye level. “Are you having a nice day out with grandma, Ellie?”

Serena’s spine stiffened. “I’m not her grandmother.”

The woman’s jaw dropped. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed.” She gestured to Ellie. “So uh, did you and your husband-”

“I don’t have a husband,” Serena growled. 

Somehow this seemed to shock the woman more than the grandmother faux pas. She stopped pushing her swing, which caused the twenty-four-month-old to start crying.

Fearing a chain reaction of crying, Serena scooped up Ellie and hurried back to the car, muttering under her breath.

“Grandmother my arse. Ellie, I’ll have you know that I still turn heads left and right. My sex life before you came along was just tickety-boo, thank you very much.”

She pulled the car out, still fuming.

“Men and women too, how’s that for grandmotherly?” she asked an oblivious Ellie, who was sat in her carseat gnawing on one of Harvey’s ears.

Serena pulled onto the main road, and almost immediately there was a loud pop from the engine. As smoke began billowing from the bonnet, she sharply pulled the car to the curb and turned the key to the off position.

She swore loudly as she watched smoke continue to creep up from the engine. After a moment she swore again and slammed her fist against the wheel, accidentally setting off the horn. Ellie began to wail. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Serena said, though she didn't believe it for a second.

She got out of the car and lifted the bonnet, coughing as a large dark cloud overtook her. She stared at the soot-stained engine as the smoke cleared, completely unsure of what she should be looking for. It didn’t appear to be on fire, which seemed like a good sign. Other than that, she was clueless.

Ellie was still screeching in the backseat, so Serena turned her attention to the toddler. She pulled her out of her seat and settled her on her hip in what was now becoming a well-practiced move. She bounced her up and down a few times, muttering gentle nonsense as she crossed back to the ruined engine. Ellie continued to cry, and Serena was about to join her when someone called out to her from the sidewalk.

“Engine been growling or whining?” a familiar voice asked, and Serena’s stomach sank. 

Bernie sauntered up, smirking around an unlit cigarette. 

“Any intermittent smell of hot or burning rubber?” she asked, removing the cigarette from her mouth.

“Define intermittent,” Serena mumbled. She still wasn’t sure what Bernie and Myrtle had been hinting at earlier, and she really, really could not stand to be insulted again today.

Bernie leaned over the engine, giving Serena a whiff of her surprisingly floral shampoo.

“Alternator might be cactus,” she said, looking up at Serena, who had been pointedly not trying to stare at her skinny jean-clad arse.

“Funny, you don't look like a mechanic. Well, apart from the fag,” Serena joked, trying to act like she wasn’t on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

As if on cue, Ellie chose that moment to resume her crying. Serena grimaced, then bounced her up and down a few times, cooing and making gentle shushing noises. She could feel a migraine beginning to build at the base of her skull, and each of Ellie’s cries felt like a blow to her head. 

“Would you like me to call Sacha for you?” Bernie asked, holding up her cellphone. “He's the actual mechanic, he’ll get it all sorted for you.”

Serena wanted to make a scathing remark, to tell Bernie she could FOH, but she wasn’t exactly in a place to refuse help. She gave Bernie a terse nod and resumed her attempts to calm Ellie.

Bernie stepped away to make the call. As Ellie began to quiet down, Serena could just make out what the blonde was saying.

“Remember the woman I was telling you about? New in town, with the baby?” she listened for a moment, then snickered. “Yeah, yeah, that's the one. Her engine’s gone out, just a block up from the Digby’s place. Mind giving her a tow?” a pause and another snicker. “I doubt it. But cheers mate, see you soon.”

She turned back to Serena, who had found her breaking point.

“And just what was it you were telling him about me?” she asked. She wanted to shout but knew that would just start Ellie off again, so her voice came out in a sort of strangled, violent stage whisper. 

Bernie’s eyes widened. “Er, I just...it’s nothing like that.”

“Like what?” Serena hissed, eyes filling with tears. She was exhausted, she was in pain, and this woman had the audacity to mock her. “I don't know why you find me so amusing, what I've done that’s made you so smug and smirky, but I would appreciate it if you wouldn't poison the well and make the rest of the town hate me. You don't have to make my time any harder here than it already is.” She swiped at an errant tear with the back of her free hand. 

Bernie appeared shocked, hurt even. She pursed her lips and looked down at her cigarette, which she was still twirling between her fingers. After a moment she glanced back up at Serena, looking for all the world like a puppy who had just been kicked.

“Did Alex tell you how she knew me?”

This was the last thing Serena had expected to hear. “Er, no?” she replied, deflating slightly.  
She furrowed her brow. “She said you were friends but-”

Bernie snorted. “Friends. That's, that's just great.” She ran her free hand through her hair. 

Serena shifted from foot to foot. As her anger began to dissipate she realized how ridiculous she must look and how her reaction might not have been exactly proportionate to the situation, at least where Bernie was concerned. She adjusted her hold on Ellie, who had stopped crying and was now sucking her thumb and watching the exchange between the two adults.

“Were you two ah, were you two...lovers?” Serena finally asked, cringing at her awkward choice of words.

Bernie let out a huff of air and scuffed the toe of her boot on the sidewalk. “We ah, we were engaged. She left me at the altar about a year ago...well, sent me a text half an hour before the ceremony, but it’s a near enough thing.”

Serena vaguely remembered seeing Alex take off an engagement ring before one of the few surgeries they had performed together. She wasn't sure which was worse -- if it was the one Bernie had given her, or if it was a new one given to her by someone else.

“I'd fixed up that house for us to live in after the wedding.” She looked up at Serena with a humorless smile. “What I said to Sacha was that it was ironic, after all of that, the house was going to be occupied by yet another breathtaking brunette who didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, and Serena was somewhat surprised they weren’t actually visible. Her own anger and frustration and hurt had gone,replaced by an overwhelming sense of sympathy for the brokenhearted blonde standing before her. She struggled to find something, anything, to say to her.

Bernie looked away and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I should get going. Sacha’ll be here any minute.”

“Thank you for ah, for calling him,” Serena said

Bernie nodded and turned, walking away without another word. Serena watched her go, a queasy feeling building up in the pit of her stomach. How could she have gotten it so wrong? She had let her own pride get the best of her, and it had cost her what was probably her best shot at friendship in this town. 

 

And yet…

 

_breathtaking?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The exchange with the woman at the park is loosely based on something that once happened to my dad. When I was a toddler he took me to the grocery store with him, and the clerk asked me if I was "having a fun day with grandpa." He's still upset about it to this day.
> 
> Also, I know I said there would be less dialogue in this chapter. I lied.


	3. Truce

The next few weeks were quiet, or at least as quiet as can be when one is raising a toddler. 

Serena felt herself growing more comfortable with guardianhood. It was still challenging, especially as Ellie grew more confident in her crawling abilities. She did laps around the cottage, moving from room to room with a surprising amount of speed and leaving an exhausted Serena to trail in her wake. She had also been practicing standing as of late; she couldn’t stay upright on her own just yet, but she did very well if she was holding onto the coffee table or Serena’s fingers. She would be walking unaided before long, which was a terrifying prospect. 

But one morning as Serena was heating her bottle in the kitchen, she had wandered back into the bedroom and tried to use the nightstand to lever herself up. The nightstand wobbled in her grip, and sent a stack of books to the floor with a loud crash. Startled by the noise, Ellie had begun to wail, which startled Serena in turn. She ran into the bedroom and grabbed the baby, immediately checking her for injuries. 

Ellie stopped crying as soon as Serena came into the room, and started smiling as she was picked up. She gave Serena a cheeky giggle and wrapped her arms around her neck, snuggling in close. A feeling of warmth bubbled up in Serena’s chest as she realized her mere presence was a source of comfort to the girl. It was a tiny moment, but it made up for at least a week’s worth of sleep deprivation and aching joints. 

That being said, living in isolation with a toddler was beginning to take its toll on her psyche. Whole days would pass without her having any human contact aside from Ellie, who was not exactly the best conversationalist. 

Serena found herself having full one-sided conversations with her. It had started as a way to amuse herself, but she soon found herself having pretend discussions with her several times a day, often unintentionally.

“I agree,” she said as they watched the news together one evening. “I think May in in way over her head.”

Ellie made a burbling sound and bashed Harvey against the floor several times.

“Well I don’t know about that, at least Thatcher was interesting. This one’s got about as much personality as a piece of dry toast. ” Serena sipped at her wine. “Although I will admit I quite like her shoes.”

She sipped her wine again and looked around, realizing how ridiculous this scene would look from the outside. She was rapidly becoming one of those crazy cat ladies, except her “cat” didn’t shed and was far from litterbox trained. She needed to start talking to adults on a more regular basis, or she was going to go properly mad. 

Thus their daily trips into town were born. There was never a particular agenda for these excursions, she would just park the car (a Panda 4x4 she was leasing from Sacha, it turned out that the alternator _was_ cactus after all) in front of Myrtle’s grocery and they would get out and wander until it was time for Ellie to go down for her nap. They visited the handful of shops Holby Village had to offer -- a used bookshop, a sweets shop, a florist, a baker’s, and a DIY shop -- and made trips to the park. They became regulars at the town cafe, which was run by a charming pair of newlyweds named Arthur and Morven. Morven adored Ellie and always kept a few Milkybar buttons in the pocket of her apron just for her, while Arthur always had a cup of strong and hot coffee waiting for Serena.

When the weather was too poor to facilitate these rambles Serena liked to pop into the library, which was right across the street from Myrtle’s. It was small, which was to be expected, and didn’t have any of Jodi Picoult’s novels past _The Tenth Circle_ which was nothing short of a crime in Serena’s opinion, but their children’s section was well-stocked and had a cozy little reading nook that no one else ever seemed to use. 

On these gloomy days she would curl up on the padded windowseat with Ellie in her lap and read a dozen or so books out loud, while the patter of raindrops against the windows provided a soft percussive accompaniment. Ellie seemed to enjoy these afternoons; she sucked either her thumb or Harvey’s ear while Serena read, giggling when Serena did an especially silly voice for one of the characters. (Her voice for the troll in _The Billy Goat’s Gruff_ had been a particular hit, and it had left Ellie in hysterics for several minutes.) She would read until Ellie became drowsy and boneless in her arms, then would bundle her and Harvey up for the trek back home. It was a warm, soothing routine, and Serena found herself looking forward to rainy days almost as much as she did sunny ones.

One particularly dreary afternoon while she was sifting through the shelves, Serena found an ancient copy of her own favorite book from childhood -- _The Velveteen Rabbit_. She hadn’t thought about it for ages, and she became excited by the prospect of getting to share it with Ellie. Surely it would become her favorite book as well, considering the fact she even had her very own velveteen rabbit (technically polyester rabbit, but it was a near enough thing).

She sat down on her windowseat and cracked the old book open, tearing up when she saw the familiar illustrations. She checked to make sure Ellie was comfortable before starting in, and as she read she glanced down with every page turn just to make sure the toddler was still paying attention.

But just as The Boy came down with scarlet fever, Serena was startled by the sound of a familiar honking laugh. She looked up and sure enough, Bernie Wolfe was sitting on the edge of the reference librarian’s desk. She and the librarian, a young man named Dom, appeared to be quite close. Serena watched as Bernie gave Dom a playful swat to the arm, which earned her an eye roll in return. 

Everyone in town seemed to adore Bernie, and Serena couldn’t exactly blame them. She was beautiful and witty, and from what Serena had heard it sounded like she was always ready to drop anything to help a friend in need. A few days earlier Morven had been telling her about how Bernie had helped her and Arthur move into their new home. Sacha had mentioned that she was the one who had first introduced him to his wife Chrissie. It seemed that no matter where Serena turned in this town, there was always someone there ready and waiting to extol the virtues of Berenice bloody Wolfe. 

Serena watched as Bernie leaned across the desk to look at something on Dom’s computer, and took a moment to appreciate the long, lean lines of her body. She had her hair up again today, and as she peered at the screen a lock fell loose, partially obscuring her face from Serena’s view. A small, traitorous part of Serena’s brain dared to imagine herself walking over and tucking it behind her ear, but she was quick to dispel it. She’d been downright cruel to the other woman, there was no way she wanted anything to do with her now. And besides, they barely knew each other, Bernie was her landlord, and there was Ellie to consider. It was a non-starter through and through. 

Still, as Bernie stood up and made to leave Serena found herself rising too. She hadn’t apologized for her outburst yet, she reasoned, at at the very least she owed Bernie that. 

“Bernie,” she called.

The blonde stopped and turned. Serena watched as the mild confusion on her face turned into a deep discomfort.

_Bugger_. 

Still, in for a penny. She crossed the library, settling Ellie firmly against her hip once she had reached Bernie.

“Er, hi,” Bernie said, tucking the errant lock of hair behind her ear. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Serena replied. “You?”

Bernie pursed her lips and nodded. “Good, good.”

There was a pause, and in that moment Serena regretting calling out to Bernie more than she had ever regretted anything in her life. Both women scrambled to think of something to say, and ended up speaking at the same time.

“Listen, I think-”

“I’m really very-”

They both stopped, and Bernie blushed while Serena snorted. 

Bernie gestured to Serena. “Go ahead.”

Serena shook her head. “No, it’s okay. You go.”

Bernie bit her lip. “I ah, I just wanted to say I was sorry for, you know, what I said the other day.”

Serena frowned. “What?”

“Just, that was a stupid thing to say. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Serena wracked her brain trying to think of anything from their interaction that Bernie would have to apologize for. Unless...oh. _Breathtaking_.

“Don’t apologize for that,” she blurted, a little too loudly. She paused, feeling a blush creep across her cheeks. “I mean it’s...no, it didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

Bernie quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“Anyway, I should be the one apologizing to you,” Serena continued. “What I said was highly uncalled for. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and in return I used you as a,” she made an absent gesture with her free hand, “as an emotional punching bag.”

Bernie shrugged. “Everyone has bad days.” She smirked. “Just promise me one thing -- if you ever decide to use me as an actual punching bag, warn me first so I can put in my gum shield.” 

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Serena said with a laugh. She shifted Ellie, who had dozed off during the exchange. Before she could think better of it, she stuck out her free hand. “Serena Campbell.”

Bernie gave the proffered hand a quizzical look.

“I er, I thought we could start over,” Serena said, voice wavering. “Maybe I could at least try to get to know you before I come at you swinging again.”

Bernie hesitated, apparently assessing Serena’s sincerity. She must have found it to be satisfactory though, because after a moment a slow grin spread across her face. She reached out and shook Serena’s hand, eyes twinkling. “Bernie Wolfe.”

Once again, Serena was struck by how soft the other woman’s hands were. She figured the other woman must wear hand cream and gloves to bed, or something along those lines, in order to counteract the harshness of farming, or whatever it was she did for a living. 

As they pulled apart Ellie woke up and began whimpering. Serena sighed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, 

“That’s my cue,” she said apologetically. “It’s past our nap time.”

Bernie smiled. “I should get going too. Have a good nap,” she teased.

Serena smirked and began rocking Ellie back and forth. As Bernie turned to leave, she couldn’t help but ask one more thing.

“Bernie?”

“Yes?”

Serena bit her lip and looked down, suddenly bashful. She glanced back up at the blonde.

“Will I see you around?”

Bernie cocked her head to the side, looking for all the world like a curious golden retriever. The lock of hair slipped out from behind her ear and curled around her cheek, but she didn’t try to fix it. She just smiled, scrunching her nose slightly. 

“You can count on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by two of my deep seated Serena headcanons. The first is that she is as begrudgingly obsessed with Theresa May's shoe collection as I am. The second is that she is an excellent bedtime story-reader, and does all of the voices when she reads to the Fletchlings. (Although they are not to breathe a word of it to either of their dads.)
> 
> Also I'm fairly certain that The Velveteen Rabbit has made an appearance in almost all of my long-running fics. What can I say? It's a classic.


	4. Fever

A few days later, Serena woke to the sound of a soft, pitiful cry. It was not one of Ellie’s cries from hunger, nor was it the one that signaled a need for a nappy change. This was the heartwrenching sound of infant misery, and what little maternal instinct Serena had developed over the course of the past two months was instantly triggered.

She opened her eyes and saw Ellie lying on what had become her side of the bed, red-faced and sweating. Her nose was running, and she paused her crying just long enough to let out a damp cough.

Serena sat up and placed the back of her hand over Ellie’s forehead, which was burning up. 

“Okay, okay,” she murmured, picking her up and cradling her to her chest. Ellie quieted at the contact and snuggled in close, clinging to Serena’s nightshirt with both of her tiny fists. 

Serena desperately wished that her stint in paediatrics had been longer. Ellie had been running a fever when they had first come into each other's’ lives two months prior, was it common for babies her age to be so feverish so often? What if there was something seriously wrong?

Pushing those thoughts aside, she set about doing what she would do for an adult patient with a fever -- gave her Motrin, changed her into her most lightweight outfit, and placed a cool flannel on her forehead. Initially, it seemed to work.

But as the day wore on, she seemed to only get worse. She wouldn’t eat, she was sick all over her pajamas, and she couldn’t stop shivering. What’s more, she wouldn’t let Serena put her down. Every time she tried, Ellie would let out a wheezing, plaintive cry that gave Serena a visceral gut reaction. 

So Serena spent most of the day on the sofa with Ellie tucked in close to her chest, getting up only to replace the cool flannel on her back. She had her down to just her nappy and kept the fan on full-blast, which caused them both to shiver. 

In addition, she took her temperature every hour on the hour. In the early afternoon she gave her a lukewarm bath, which lowered the fever some. But later that evening it spiked again, reaching 39.5 degrees. Serena knew she was in over her head, and she was too poorly-equipped to treat her on her own. 

During their excursions to town they had often passed by a small walk-in clinic, a rural affair that most likely had only one ancient GP to its name, probably the kind of folksy country doctor that prescribed whisky instead of cough syrup and believed you could catch cold from being out in the rain. Regardless, he would undoubtedly have more knowledge of infant medicine than Serena herself possessed, which was all that mattered.

She carried Ellie out to the car, using her own body to protect her from the heavy rain that had started to fall. As she buckled her into the carseat, Ellie wailed, struggling against the harness and sending fat drops of spittle flying everywhere. Serena felt sick, wracked with guilt and shame. She was all the girl had in the world, she was the one who was supposed to make sure Ellie stayed happy and healthy, and she had failed her. One of the best vascular surgeons in the country, and she couldn’t even treat a sick infant on her own. 

Ellie continued to cry the entire way to the clinic, so by the time they arrived Serena was in complete hysterics. She grabbed Ellie and hurried inside, throwing the door open and not registering it when it slammed behind her.

The interior of the clinic was much nicer than she had expected, more like a living room than a waiting room. There were overstuffed sofas and low coffee tables laden with books, as well as a number of well-tended potted plants. The lighting was soft and warm, a far-cry from the harsh fluorescents of Holby City. 

In one corner of the room a perky young woman sat behind a polished walnut desk. She was positively stunning, all blond hair and long lashes. If she was surprised by the sudden appearance of a soaking wet woman clutching a baby, her face did not betray it. Instead she pressed a button on her intercom and asked the doctor to come out.

“How can we help you, ma’am?” she asked, blue eyes filled with concern.

Serena took a steadying breath. “My baby, she ah, she’s-”

But she did not have time to finish her sentence, because at that moment Bernie Wolfe came into the room. Wearing a stethoscope.

Both women blinked in surprise, but Bernie was the first to recover. She took one look at Ellie and nodded towards the receptionist. “Chantelle, hold my calls. Emergencies only.”

The young woman nodded. “Of course, Doctor Wolfe.”

Doctor Wolfe.

Dazed, Serena followed Bernie back to a small exam room, where _Doctor Wolfe_ took Ellie and laid her on a paediatric exam table. Had Serena not been confused and clinging to her very last frayed nerve, she would have noted the fact that Ellie stopped crying when Bernie held her. The baby gazed up at the blonde with what appeared to be wonder, and began to quietly suck her thumb. 

Bernie puffed a breath against the drum of her stethoscope to warm it before placing it against Ellie’s chest and listening to her lungs. It was only then that Serena realized she hadn’t spoken a word to the other woman.

“I er, her fever was 39.5 and I couldn’t bring it down,” she said, voice shaking. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

_I should have known what to do_ , she thought.

Bernie looked up at her through her fringe. “It’s different when it’s one of your own. You did the right thing, coming here,” she said, apparently reading Serena’s mind. She turned back to Ellie and beginning to palpate her stomach. 

Serena sank into the visitor’s chair and hugged her arms around herself. She was tired, she was frightened, she was wet, and she felt utterly useless as a guardian and as a doctor. But as she watched Bernie continue the examination, she felt her anxiety begin to ebb. Bernie was thorough and precise, while also managing to be achingly tender. She stroked Ellie’s sweaty hair away from her forehead, tucking a tiny blond curl behind her ear before shining a penlight in her eyes, murmuring soft words of encouragement the entire time.

“There you are, sweet girl,” she said softly. “You’re being so brave. I know how uncomfortable you must be, but here you are, being so brave for your m-” she paused. “For your Serena.”

The tears that Serena had been fighting back all day began to fall then, running down her cheeks and mingling with the remnants of rainwater that still clung to her. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, which was also still damp from the rain. How had she been so wrong about Bernie Wolfe? 

Bernie straightened up, apparently having finished her examination. She ran her hand over Ellie’s curls once more with a fond smile on her face before turning to Serena. 

“I think we can rule out pneumonia and infection,” she said. “It looks like a common virus. But her temperature is still awfully high, so I’d like to give her a small dose of Propyphenazone if that’s alright with you?”

Serena chewed her lip, running through the possible side effects of Propyphenazone that she knew off the top of her head. Tachycardia, myocardial infarction. But letting the fever stay high put her at a serious risk of brain damage and seizure.

She gave a short nod, not quite trusting herself enough to speak.

“Alright then.” Bernie picked Ellie up again and took her to Serena, placing her in her arms and not letting go until she was secure. “I need to run to the supply closet. Are you going to be okay?”

Serena gave another silent nod.

 

Bernie returned a few minutes later with the Propyphenazone as well as a steaming mug of tea and a towel. “Though you could use these,” she said sheepishly, setting them on the counter.

Serena thanked her and handed Ellie back. She dried her face, hands, and hair with the towel, which somehow felt like it was still warm from the dryer. She took the mug, which had a faded RAMC logo on the side, and wrapped her hands around it, relishing the warmth. 

Ellie whimpered as the medication was administered, but was soon soothed again by Bernie’s gentle muttering.

Bernie looked back up at Serena. “Are you in any hurry to get back? I’d like to keep an eye on her for a little while and take her temperature again in about a half hour.”

Serena shook her head. “No, no hurry. But I’d hate to keep you from your other patients.”

Bernie nodded up at the clock on the wall, which read 7:34. “Officially I’m already closed for the day, I was just doing paperwork when you came in.”

Serena flushed. She hadn’t realized how late it was. “I’m so sorry to make you work overtime.”

“No such thing. Everyone in town has my mobile number, so I’m pretty much always on call.”

“That must be hard.” 

Bernie shrugged and bounced Ellie up and down a few times. Ellie smiled and reached up to tug on a lock of her hair. 

Serena looked down at her mug, tracing a finger along its chipped rim. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a doctor?”

“You never asked,” 

Serena gave a wry smile. “True. I suppose I just assumed you were a farmer or something.”

Bernie honked. “Why would you think that?”

Serena thought about it. “Well, the truck for starters.”

“Lots of people around here have trucks.”

She had a point. Even Arthur and Morven had one. “Well, when we first met you were buying chicken feed.”

“Lots of people around here have chickens.”

Serena rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Fair enough. I suppose I made an ass out of you and me, as the saying goes.”

“To be fair, I didn’t really need your help in that department,” Bernie said, sitting down on the examination table and wincing as she heard the sanitary paper rip. 

She was still holding Ellie, a fact which was not lost on either woman. But Bernie didn’t seem to mind it, and Ellie appeared to be quite content where she was, so Serena was happy to sit and sip her tea. Her shoulders were beginning to ache from holding her all day, and despite her stress and fear and shame, she had to admit it was comforting to have someone else literally shouldering the burden for a moment or two. She watched as Bernie delicately traced her finger down Ellie’s button nose, a faint smile playing across her lips.

“Do you have children?” Serena asked. She realized she knew next to nothing about this woman aside from the story of her heartbreak, and she suddenly wanted to know everything about her.

Bernie shook her head. “Alex and I had talked about it but…” she shook her head again. “Wasn’t in the cards.Though I do have this fantasy that I’d’ve been Maria von Trapp if it hadn’t been for my career.”

Serena laughed. “Yes, I can’t exactly see you making dresses out of curtains and singing Edelweiss around the fire.”

Bernie smiled. “I take that as a compliment. How about you, any other children? Husband?”

“No, none of it. A confirmed old bachelorette, I’m afraid.” Serena hesitated for a moment. “Years ago there was a woman I thought might change that, but she left me for a man in the end.”

This wasn’t quite true. The woman in question was a former colleague’s wife up in Stepney who liked to call up Serena when her husband was out of town. While Serena had been positively mad for the woman, she’d never harbored any illusions of their having a future together. Still, she felt the need to embellish the experience a little now, because it seemed as good a time as any to bring up the fact she was decidedly not heterosexual.

There was a flash of something behind Bernie’s eyes, but it was gone before Serena had time to identify it. She looked back down at Ellie. “Ah, well I’m sorry to hear that.”

Serena hummed. “Don’t be.”

They continued to chat for some time, and Bernie gradually began to open up more. Serena learned about her time in Afghanistan, about the explosion and being flown back to Holby City. (Apparently Guy Self and Oliver Valentine had performed her operations, and Serena made a mental note to send them both a fine bottle of scotch when she got back.) Her father, the clinic’s founder, had been living on the outskirts of Holby Village, and Bernie had gone to live with him for a while while she recovered and waited for Alex to finish out her deployment. He had passed away shortly after the aborted wedding, leaving her with the house and the clinic. She said this all very matter-of-factly, without a hint of resentment. She talked about taking over the clinic as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if anybody in her position would have done the same thing. 

In return, Serena told her about her mother’s dementia, how hard it was to take care of her and how fiercely she had fought against the doctor’s who wanted to put her in a convalescent hospital. She told Bernie about the number of times she had been passed over for the CEO position, how it seemed like the board enjoyed dangling it in front of her only to snatch it away at the last moment. 

They fell into a companionable silence after a while, and Bernie glanced up at the clock. They had been talking for well over an hour, during which time Ellie had fallen fast asleep in Bernie’s arms. She had her right hand fisted around the hem of Bernie’s shirt, much the same way she did when she fell asleep in Serena’s arms.

Bernie looked down at Ellie, then back up at Serena. “I hate to wake her, but I really should take her temperature.”

“I can do it, if you don’t mind,” Serena offered.

Bernie nodded towards the cupboards. “Thermometer’s on the second shelf from the bottom.”

Serena found the thermometer and popped a sanitary cap on the end. She approached Bernie, bending down and gently inserting the tip of the thermometer into Ellie’s tiny ear. Ellie snuffled and shifted, but did not wake up.

Serena watched the numbers tick upwards and tried to not think about how close Bernie was or how good she smelled. 

The thermometer gave a soft click as it stopped at 37.5 degrees. 

Serena let out a small sigh. “The fever’s broken.” She glanced up at Bernie, who was still very, very close. Close enough to...

Bernie cleared her throat. “Brilliant, glad to hear it.”

Serena stood, reaching out for Ellie. “I can't thank you enough,” she murmured, cradling the sleeping baby to her chest. 

“I'm just glad I could help, for what it's worth.” Bernie stood, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “D’you need any Motrin or anything like that?”

Serena shook her head. “No, we’ll be fine.” 

“I'll walk you out then.”

The peppy receptionist was gone, and the waiting room was now bathed in the gentle orange glow of the safety lights. Bernie opened the front door for Serena, touching her hand to the small of the brunette’s back as she passed. Serena shivered involuntarily and hoped it could be passed off as a reaction to the cool night air. The rain from earlier had stopped, leaving the world around them soft and dewy around the edges. 

They said their awkward goodbyes in front of Serena’s car, with Serena giving her profuse thanks and Bernie shrugging it off once more. As she drove away, Serena could see Bernie in the rearview mirror, standing on the front steps of the clinic, hands in her pockets, watching the little blue Panda as it trundled off down the road and out of sight.


	5. Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am so sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter out. I was really busy this summer, travelling abroad for work, dealing with some housing issues, etc. But a big thank you to everyone who stuck around and to everyone who sent me supportive messages, you guys are the best. (And to the people who sent rude messages – not cool, guys. Not cool.)
> 
> I’m committed to finishing this fic now, and while I can’t promise any kind of regularity with updates I can promise that there won’t be any more three-month gaps in between them. 
> 
> I love you guys. Keep the faith.
> 
> XOXO,  
> Brooke

The next few days passed by in a dreamy blur as Serena was consumed by thoughts of Bernie Wolfe. 

_Doctor_ Bernie Wolfe. 

She replayed their evening together a dozen times over, trying to parse meaning from Bernie’s every word and gesture. The blonde had a very expressive face, but it was quite difficult to figure out exactly what each expression meant. For instance, when Serena had mentioned the woman in Stepney, what had that flash in her eyes been? Was it surprise, or something more? And what about the hand on the small of her back? It had been such a tiny gesture, but it had felt devastatingly intimate in the moment. 

She was washing dishes and replaying that moment for the hundredth time when a familiar green truck trundled up the hill and stopped in front of the cottage. Serena watched through the kitchen window as Bernie shut off the engine and stared at the house, drumming her fingertips on the steering wheel. After a moment’s hesitation she opened the door and hopped out of the truck’s cab, running her fingers through her messy curls as she started up the front path.

Serena quickly dried her hands and dragged her fingers through her own hair, trying to fluff it up a bit. At one time she would have been mortified by the fact she hadn’t applied any makeup that morning; as it stood, she was just glad she’d gotten a chance to shower in the past twenty-four hours. 

She walked to the door, vaguely wondering why the subject of her daydreams had decided to appear. Rent wasn’t due yet, and as far as she knew there was no need for maintenance work. Perhaps it was a social call? But no, with Serena’s luck it was more likely that Bernie coming to say that she and Alex had gotten back together and that Serena and Ellie were being evicted so that the happy couple could christen their love nest by having sex on every flat surface of the house. 

She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. This crush was getting more than a little bit out of hand.

At the front door she waited for Bernie’s knock, then waited another thirty seconds because that seemed like an amount of time that said “I was just in the middle of doing something important and was definitely not standing by the door waiting for you like an attention-starved puppy.”

After the longest thirty seconds of her life, she opened the door and gave her best approximation of a surprised-yet-pleased smile.

“Hello you,” she said, internally wincing at the overt familiarity. 

“Sorry to drop by unannounced,” Bernie said, looking a bit sheepish. “I er, was just driving into town and thought I might come by and check on Ellie, see how she’s feeling.”

Serena quirked an eyebrow. “Make housecalls often, do you?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice. 

Bernie ducked her head and smiled. “Just in special cases,” she replied, and the twinkle in her eye made Serena feel weak in the knees. 

“That’s awfully kind of you,” Serena said, stepping aside so Bernie could pass. “She’s much better, now it’s really just the runny nose.”

“Glad to hear it,” Bernie said as she crossed the threshold. She glanced around the little kitchen, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Oh Serena, this is lovely.”

Serena furrowed her brow in confusion. “Er, it’s your house? Most of your furniture too.”

“Yeah but,” Bernie shrugged. “You’ve made it a home.” She gestured to the potted herbs on the windowsill, the pictures on the fridge (one of the whole AAU team, a blurry selfie she’d taken with Raf at a New Year’s Eve party, all of the Fletchlings’ school photos, and about two dozen of Ellie because in Serena’s opinion she was the most photogenic baby on the planet). Serena looked around and realized that Bernie was right. Even though she and Ellie had only lived there two months, Catchfly Cottage had already come to feel like home. 

She gave a somewhat bashful smile of thanks before crossing over to the pack n’ play in the corner, where Ellie was merrily gnawing on one of Harvey’s feet. 

“Look who’s come round to see you, El,” Serena said, lifting her up with a now well-practiced ease. 

She moved towards Bernie and Ellie let out a happy shriek when she saw her, kicking her legs and reaching for the other woman. 

“Hello little one,” Bernie cooed, taking her from Serena and cradling her to her chest. 

Ellie burbled, reaching up to catch a blond lock in her tiny fist.

“You’ve certainly perked up since I saw you last,” Bernie remarked. She smiled down at Ellie, deftly plucking her hair from the infant’s grasp and replacing it with her own finger. Ellie did not seem fazed by this, she simply clung to Bernie’s finger and continued to burble.

Bernie glanced up at Serena through her fringe. “She seems to be doing well. Temperature’s stayed down?”

Serena nodded. “Yes, nothing since that night.”

“Any vomiting?”

“Once, right after we got back from your clinic. But nothing since then.”

“Good. And how about you?”

Serena furrowed her brow in confusion. “What?”

Bernie flinched. 

“Sorry, should have segued that better,” she said with an embarrassed chuckle. “I just meant, how have you been?”

_Flustered and completely unable to think of anything but those strong hands of yours, thanks for asking._

“Oh, I’ve been fine. You?”

Bernie shifted her hold on Ellie. “I’m okay.”

“Then the world can go round.”

It was Bernie’s turn to look confused. “Er, what?”

Serena shook her head, kicking herself for her own lack of a filter. “Nothing, just a silly thing my mother used to say. You’re okay, I’m okay, the world can go ‘round.”

Bernie smiled. “I like that. I may steal it, actually. Dad was much more cliche, he’d just use the old ‘everything will be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright it’s not the end’ line.” 

Serena hummed. “Just because it’s cliche doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Fair point.”

They fell into a companionable silence for several moments, both watching Ellie as she examined Bernie - tugging on her finger then dropping it in favor of Bernie’s shirt collar. 

“Do you like this shirt? I’m quite fond of it myself,” Bernie murmured, stroking Ellie’s hair. “I like your shirt too, pink is a very good color for you.” 

Serena’s heart swelled as she watched the two of them. Bernie was so natural with Ellie, so gentle. Serena didn’t usually feel comfortable having anyone else hold her, even handing her to Morven or Arthur made her nervous. But for some reason, Bernie seemed to be the exception to the rule. 

As if on cue, Bernie looked up at Serena and smiled, her eyes crinkling softly around the edges. Serena smiled back, trying to fight back against the blush that was threatening to creep across her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. “Er, can I get you anything to drink?”

Bernie glanced at the clock on the oven and frowned. “Better not, I’m expected back at the clinic soon. Rain check?” 

Serena nodded. “Of course. Maybe you could, er, stop by for a glass of wine after work sometime this week?”

_Brilliant Campbell, way to throw yourself at her. About as subtle as a freight train, you are._

A slow smile spread across Bernie’s face, and this time Serena was powerless against her responding blush.

“I’d like that,” she said, in a voice Serena could have sworn was lower than her normal speaking voice. “Wednesday?”

_Christ, it worked!_

Serena nodded.“Eight o'clock?” 

“I’ll see you then.”

They stood smiling at each other for a beat longer than necessary, until Ellie let out an indignant squawk for having been ignored for so long.

“Yes, I’ll see you then too,” Bernie said, planting a small kiss on her head before handing her back to Serena. 

Ellie stuck her thumb in her mouth and twisted around so she could see the blonde.She snuggled back and tipped her head to rest on Serena’s shoulder, regarding Bernie from beneath hooded eyelids.

Serena gently nudged her. “Can you say goodbye to Bernie, dear?”

Ellie furrowed her brow. She gave an approximation of a wave without removing her thumb from her mouth, opening and closing her fingers in front of her face. 

Bernie gave a soft smile and waved back. She then flashed another devastating grin at Serena.

“Take care,” she said.

“You too,” Serena replied softly, opening the front door. 

As soon as Bernie was back in her truck Serena shut the door and sagged against it, berating herself for her borderline desperation. She had always been so smooth, such a natural flirt, what was it about this woman that made her feel like a bumbling teenager? 

And yet, it had worked. Hadn’t it?

Coming over for a glass of wine at eight o'clock at night was definitely a date in Serena’s book. But with a sinking feeling, she realized it could also be a platonic activity. The village only had the one pub, so drinking at home was probably more common there than in the city. And Bernie was obviously a friendly person, as evidenced by her numerous admirers in town; maybe she was just relieved to have found a fellow medical professional to swap stories with. (Especially since that someone had finally stopped yelling at her.) 

The more she thought about it, the less sure she felt. But...

breathtaking. 

She sighed and looked down at Ellie, who was still sucking her thumb and looking content as ever.

“At least we know she’s quite fond of you,” she said, smoothing the toddler’s hair.


	6. Date(?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so what was that I was saying about no more three month gaps between chapters?
> 
> Clearly, I can't be trusted to estimate the ETAs of my updates. But I promise that this isn't/won't be abandoned. 
> 
> And seriously, bless anyone who is still reading this. Y'all are rockstars.

Serena was a terrible guardian. 

At least, she felt like one. On Wednesday she put Ellie down for her nap much earlier than usual, then took her to the park and played with her until she was exhausted again in order to ensure that she would be down for the night by 8. She couldn’t imagine a good (or even halfway-decent) guardian would even dream of doing something like that. Especially since it was for the sake of a (maybe?) date. She was definitely going to guardian hell.

Nevertheless, it worked. 

Ellie was fast asleep in her crib by half past 7, snoring softly with Harvey clutched to her chest. This left Serena with more than enough time to shower and put on makeup, which was nothing short of a miracle. She even had time to put on her favorite perfume, and she made sure to dab some onto her cleavage for good measure.

To assuage some of her lingering guilt, she also took a moment to set up the baby monitor in the living room. Though the cottage was small enough for her to be able to hear Ellie’s cries all the way in the kitchen, it gave her a small measure of comfort to be able to hear her slightly staticky breathing through the plastic speaker. 

At precisely 8:05 there was a soft knock on the door, causing Serena’s heart to leap into her throat. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the door handle, and she took a moment to chide herself.

_You don’t even know for sure that this is a date. Pull yourself together, Campbell._

This was easier said than done, because Bernie was looking as stunning as ever. A little tired, perhaps (she had just come off a twelve-hour shift), but gorgeous nonetheless. She gave Serena a warm smile.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi yourself,” Serena replied, realizing this was probably going to be the smoothest thing she’d say all night. She ushered the blonde into the kitchen, where a bottle of shiraz was breathing on the counter.

“I realize I never asked your wine preference, I hope red will do?”

Bernie nodded. “Red is great, thanks.”

Serena poured two glasses, grateful that her hands had stopped shaking. “Cheers,” she murmured, handing Bernie her glass and clinking it against her own.

“Cheers.”

Serena sipped nervously from her glass, unsure of what to say. The last time they had been alone together there had been the drama of Ellie’s illness to deal with, and she hadn’t really had time to worry about what she said or how she said it. But now as they stood together in her kitchen (Was it her kitchen? Or was it technically still Bernie’s kitchen? Was it _their_ kitchen?) she felt pressured to say something, but wasn’t sure what sort of conversation was appropriate for the situation. 

After a moment, they both began to speak at once.

“What did you-”

“Would you like to-”

Both women chuckled. Bernie gestured to Serena, “Go ahead, what were you going to say?”

Serena felt her cheeks warm. “I was er, just going to suggest we move to the sitting room? You’ve been on your feet all day, I’m sure you’re dying to sit down.”

Bernie gave a softened version of her usual smirk. “It’s not the NHS Serena, we country doctors are actually allowed to sit down once in awhile,” she teased.

“I can’t imagine what that’s like,” Serena said with a laugh, leading the way into the sitting room.

As they settled onto the sofa (a bit too far apart for Serena’s liking, but she wasn’t about to push her luck) Bernie spotted the latest edition of _The Lancet_ sitting on the coffee table.

“What did you think about the piece on the antiplatelet trial?” she asked, leaning back into the cushions and taking a sip from her wine. 

Serena’s eyes brightened. “I thought it was fascinating. There’s a significant economic benefit in de-escalation to clopidogrel after the acute phase, not to mention the lessening of the potential for side effects.”

“I think that’s your MBA talking, Campbell,” Bernie drawled, taking another sip from her wine. “The side effects of extended use are negligible, far less than the potential damage that early de-escalation would do.”

This launched them into a spirited debate about techniques, which naturally segued into a playful competition over whose specialty was more difficult. As much as she was enjoying being on sabbatical, Serena began to realize just how much she missed medicine, how much she missed being around fellow doctors and being able to talk about her profession in such specific detail. For months it had been relegated to the stuff of small talk, which was immensely frustrating. But here was Bernie, who was brilliant and witty and able to hold her own in conversation, all while keeping that playful arrogance that Serena had come to love. 

Case in point: Bernie claimed to have successfully performed an atriocaval shunt in a trauma setting. 

“You did not,” Serena protested. 

“I did,” Bernie replied, sipping from her wineglass.

“But that procedure has only been done thirty-one times in the past eleven or so years, and just six of those were successful.”

Bernie shrugged and gave her a wry grin. “Well now it’s thirty-two times with seven survivors, touch wood.”

Serena swatted Bernie’s knee with the rolled up _Lancet_. “I don’t believe you for a second.”

Bernie clutched her chest in mock horror. “Doubting my honor? Doctor Campbell, you wound me!”

Serena rolled her eyes. “My sincerest apologies, however will I make it up to you?”

There was a cough on the baby monitor and both woman froze, apprehensive. It crackled with static for a moment, then was quiet. After about a half a minute of silence both women relaxed, certain that Ellie was fine for the time being.

Serena swirled the last dregs of her wine around the inside of the glass, disappointed that the playful banter had come to a grinding halt. 

Her disappointment was short-lived however, as Bernie broke the silence a moment later. 

“If you’re still trying to figure out a way to make up for doubting my skill as a physician, you could just come over here.”

Serena looked up at her, furrowing her brow. “Come over...oh.”

There was no misinterpreting Bernie’s meaning. Her eyes were dark and shuttered, and her smirk had grown into something just shy of predatory. Serena felt her skin flush as she set her wineglass down, and a warm tingling sensation bubbled up in her core. 

She closed the distance between them, scooting over until their knees bumped together. Serena caught a whiff of Bernie’s perfume, which was something soft and earthy that smelled deliciously inviting. There didn’t seem to be anything about Bernie that wasn’t inviting, really. Serena looked up into her eyes and paused. 

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t imagined this exact moment several times over the course of the past few days. But in all of those fantasies she had been confident and sexy, and she had known all of the right things to do and say. But now that it was happening, now that she was close enough to see the tiny smattering of freckles across the bridge of Bernie’s nose, she found herself almost paralyzed by fear. Fear of not being enough, fear of ruining whatever this was that was happening between them, fear of just how much she wanted Bernie in that moment. 

Bernie seemed to sense this, and decided to take pity on her.

Those strong, clever fingers ghosted along her jawline and then paused as Bernie traced Serena’s bottom lip with the pad of her thumb. The gesture was sensual, almost reverent, and the intensity of Bernie’s gaze sent a small shiver down Serena’s spine. 

Then slowly, almost agonizingly so, Bernie removed her thumb and replaced it with her lips. She cupped Serena’s jaw, grazing the sensitive spot below her ear with the tips of her fingers. 

Spell broken, Serena sighed against the blonde’s mouth and wound her arms around her neck, burying her fingers in those delicious unkempt curls. Bernie’s hands flew to her waist as she dragged her forward, pulling their torsos flush against each other. Serena gasped, and Bernie used the opportunity to trail kisses down the column of her throat. It was too much and not enough all at once - Serena felt dizzy and overwhelmed but still she wanted more, and it wasn’t long before she found herself hiking a leg up and straddling Bernie’s lap. 

Bernie let out a little muffled “mphf!” sound. She ran her hands up Serena’s thighs before snaking them around and giving her backside an appreciative squeeze, which made Serena “mphf!” in turn. 

Unfortunately, Ellie also decided it was the right time to become vocal. Her high-pitched cry rang through the baby monitor, causing both women to freeze again.

Serena detached her lips from Bernie’s. She rested their foreheads together for a moment as they tried to catch their breath and gather their respective bearings. 

Bernie looked dazed, and the sight of her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips was one Serena would carry with her for years to come. 

“Just, just hold that thought,” Serena panted. She stole another kiss before levering herself up off of Bernie’s lap and hurrying to the bedroom.

Ellie was standing up in her cot, holding onto the bars and wailing. When she saw Serena she reached out one hand towards her, still needing to hold onto the bars with the other in order to keep herself upright. 

“Yes yes, alright I’m here, it’s okay,” Serena murmured, lifting her up and out of the cot. Ellie stopped crying and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Serena could tell that the toddler’s cries were a request for a nappy change, which was fortunately an easy fix. She carried her to the changing table and began rummaging for the talcum powder and wipes, wanting to hurry through the process but also knowing that hurrying was not something a good guardian would do. 

“Darling, I love you, but I must tell you that your timing is atrocious,” she whispered as she removed the soiled nappy.

Ellie grinned around the thumb she was sucking on and kicked her legs out.

“No no, none of that,” Serena chided. 

She finished the task at hand and returned Ellie to her cot. Ellie snuggled down, blessedly content to return to sleep. As her eyes drifted shut Serena took a moment to watch her. 

Serena hadn’t been very fond of children in the past, but Ellie was a glaring exception to the rule. In Serena’s humble opinion she was the most perfect baby in the world, and it seemed she would never tire of watching her sleep, or crawl, or do anything, really. 

After a minute she smoothed Ellie’s curls back and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead.

“Sweet dreams, love,” she said, backing out of the room and shutting the door behind herself.

Bernie was thumbing through the _Lancet_ when Serena reentered the living room. She looked up at the sound of footsteps and smiled.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yes, the world can go round,” Serena replied, settling herself back onto the sofa. She turned towards Bernie and grinned. “Now, where were we?”

Bernie gave an apologetic smile. “It’s getting late, I really should head home.”

Serena’s face fell. While she was in the bedroom Bernie had probably thought about it and had decided that she didn’t want to get involved with her. Serena couldn’t really blame her - a single guardian wasn’t an exciting prospect, especially at their age. And besides, Serena was only going to be staying in town for a few more months, so for all intents and purposes it was a non-starter.

But that didn’t mean the rejection hurt any less. Serena quickly looked away, hoping Bernie couldn’t read the disappointment on her face.

But she wasn’t quite fast enough. 

“Hey, hey,” Bernie said softly. She leaned forward and placed two fingers under Serena’s chin, turning her head so that they were facing each other.

“Serena, I’m trying to be a gentleman here. Trust me, I would,” she closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose, steadying herself. “I would _really_ like to stay and pick up where we left off just now. But I want to do this the right way. Let me take you on a proper date, with dinner and dancing and the like.” 

_I want to do this the right way._

Warmth bubbled up in Serena’s chest. For once, Bernie had said something that she couldn’t overthink. And the other woman’s eyes were filled with an aching sincerity that made it impossible to doubt her, or try to write it off as another act of pity. Not only did Bernie reciprocate Serena’s feelings, she was also serious about following through with them. 

Serena smiled, reaching up and tangling her fingers with Bernie’s. “I think that can be arranged. Though I must point out the fact that you were the one who started it.” She quirked an eyebrow suggestively. 

Bernie snickered. “Fair enough,” she said. “How does Saturday work for you? It’s the May Day festival. There’s the usual stuff during the day, charity rummage sale and games for the kids, but at night there’s music and dancing in the village square.”

Serena couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken her dancing. It had to have been when she went with Edward, the awful drunk she’d dated in her late twenties. She’d gotten dolled up thinking they were going somewhere nice; instead he took her to a seedy little nightclub that reeked of sweat and cigar smoke. To top it all off, they had gotten kicked out later that night when Edward had decided to get handsy with one of the waitresses. 

Needless to say, this invitation was a far more pleasing prospect. 

She started to say yes then winced, remembering that her dancing and dating days were behind her.

“That really sounds lovely,” she said, squeezing Bernie’s hand. “But I doubt it would be much fun if I’ve got a toddler in tow.”

Bernie shook her head. “Morven can babysit Ellie for the night.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask her to do that.”

Bernie looked deeply uncomfortable. She shifted her position on the sofa, then rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand.

“Well the thing is, she’s sort of already offered to do it.”

Serena furrowed her brow.

Bernie glanced down. “She’s been sort of encouraging me...well, pushing me, to ask you out for the past week and a half. And she’s said on multiple occasions that she would be willing to watch Ellie for you if I ever got my act together. Her words, not mine.”

Serena blushed, unsure of what to make of that. Bernie had been talking to Morven about her? And from the inflection it sounded as if Morven’s offer was coming out of a place of frustration, so Bernie had been talking to Morven about her _a lot_. 

It seemed that the stoic, infuriating Doctor Bernie Wolfe was a bit of a shy romantic at heart, a combination which Serena found to be exceptionally attractive. 

_I think I could fall in love with her_ , she thought. 

“Well if that’s the case,” she said, realizing she hadn’t actually answered Bernie’s question. “Then it’s a date.”

Bernie’s smile lit up her whole face. She pulled their linked hands towards herself and placed a soft kiss on the inside of Serena’s wrist, right above her fluttering pulse point..

_No, scratch that. I know I could fall in love with her._

 

_And it would be the easiest thing I’ve ever done._


End file.
